Christine Moore (she/her/hers) grew up in rural Northern California surrounded by nature. Her childhood was spent primarily outdoors, where she learned the joy and fragility of life. She holds an MFA in poetry from the University of San Francisco and has written professionally for more than 20 years. Her poems have appeared in Pasadena Review, 26: C A journal of poetry and poetics, and her chapbook Lent Words, will be published by Quillkeepers Press. She is a mom, wife, journalist, creative writing instructor, cancer survivor, certified sommelier (cohost of the series Wine & Word), and facilitator of a women’s group in her community. Find her online at WriteYum.com and @writemoore.
You can read Out Moving Sound in the January 2024 issue.
Would you like to tell us a little bit more about your poem? For instance, how or why you wrote it, or perhaps provide some extra context?
Out Moving Sound was inspired by witnessing a loved one and their family navigate a health challenge. There was so much activity. Grasping on to what they were facing while also attempting to out-move it. It was a set of feelings I believe all can relate to. Those times in life that are out of synch, we find ourselves attempting to create acceptance while also giving all that we can to move the immovable.
Why was the poetic form the best fit for this particular piece of work?
Lines that are justified on the right of the page provide a narrative of sorts. Those in the center are meant to give a sense of urgency or panic. I hope through the form that there is a feeling that the words themselves are attempting to out-move one another.
What are you working on now?
I have a chapbook length collection of poems, Lent Words, out in January 2024. I am excited about sharing that in my community and beyond. I am working on a new manuscript, which is focused on naming and unnaming. Also in 2024, I look forward to becoming more involved in teaching poetry as a California Poet Teacher.
How or where or with what does a poem begin?
With curiosity. All of my work comes from wanting to look at an aspect of being alive without judgement or definition. I find that curiosity allows for life to be described and that description collapses us deeper and deeper into being alive.
How do you make space for poetry in your daily routine?
Your use of the word space in the phrasing of this question adds such lushness. Space can be all manner of things. There are periods in which I have both a devoted physical space and uncluttered space in time to practice with much intentionality. On these days, I work with a specific method. I read for a while. I take a walk and contemplate what I have read. I come to my desk and write. Other periods, such an intentional practice isn’t possible. Those days, I find that the space of words is one that holds me. Poems carve out space of ease and renewal on the most cluttered of days. I might not be writing, but I am creating poems and often have a phrase or collection of words that I repeat and repeat to myself. When I am unable to be at my desk, poems are all the more essential.